22. Anonymous

22

ANONYMOUS

L ook, I didn’t intend to get this wrapped up in her life. It’s just…well, it seems like she could really use the help. It started out relatively slowly, not like some great love affair. I just wanted to dip my toe in. Test the waters, so to speak. Next thing I know, I’m neck deep, and things are really starting to get interesting. First thing I don’t understand is how someone who appears to be such a great mother can have no idea what her children are up to.

I mean, I watch her juggle her little family circus, putting on the whole “I’ve got it all together” act. She’s so good at it. I can’t even decide if I admire her or if I’m disgusted by how much she’s faking. The fact that she doesn’t see it—that the whole damn world is watching her spin her perfect little lies—that’s the fun part. I almost want to give her credit for managing it all without ever breaking a sweat.

But then things start to unravel. You think you’ve got a hold of everything, but then you hear about the OD in London—her younger kid’s friend, no less. I thought it was bad before. The skipping class, the constant need to be on social media, instead of actually living life. And don’t get me started on that boy she’s into.

I don’t care that she’s out of the country; it’s one of those things you just know will work itself out. At least that’s what I told myself. It wasn’t until later that I found out about the older daughter, and that’s when I realized I’d miscalculated. There were bigger fish to fry. I thought the younger one had issues. Wrong. This kid wasn’t going to let herself slip under the radar that easily.

Sophie? She’s a lot like Charlotte. Both of them think they can hide behind the curtain of their so-called perfect lives. But Sophie? She doesn’t even have the decency to pretend. She’s out there, making her mess in the open, no apologies, no half-assed explanations. I watched her walk into that club in New York, clearly not giving a damn. I should’ve seen the signs, but I was too busy trying to understand the mechanics of it all. Too busy taking stock of the situation.

There she was, like a magnet for trouble. I watched her with the same curiosity I’d reserve for a beautiful, helpless animal. The lights, the music, the bodies pressing in from all sides— this was her element, the kind of chaos she thrives in. But when it went sideways, when it turned into that kind of chaos— that kind of mess—I knew I had to act fast.

The thing is, I’ve learned how to cover my tracks. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo. You don’t get away with being me without having a plan B, C, D, and E. As Sophie stepped outside, looking like she hadn’t just buried a body, like she wasn’t on the edge of whatever hell she was about to drag herself into, I knew what had to happen next. Charlotte really wouldn’t be happy if her perfect little life fell apart that easy, and what can I say? I happened to be in a decent mood and leaning more toward the fuck than the kill end of the spectrum at that particular moment in time.

So I moved through the crowd without anyone noticing. They were all too busy drinking, too busy getting lost in the noise of the night. I didn’t care about them. I cared about Sophie—and what she might have left behind.

The club, as it turned out, had a little too many cameras. Not that I couldn’t handle it. I’d planned for this. As soon as I saw what Sophie had done, I took action. I made some phone calls, called in people who’d know exactly what to do and how to do it.

Why? I can’t say. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t blame her for what she’d done, even if she made a terrible mistake in the way she went about it. So she’s an amateur? Who can blame her for that? We all start somewhere.

I didn’t know if I’d be able to get to her in time, but that’s where the fun begins, doesn’t it? As she made her exit, I was already two steps ahead, watching from a dark corner. She never even noticed. She couldn’t, not with everything spinning around her like that.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Charlotte—and her daughters—it’s that you don’t let things just happen. You control them. They may think they’re running the show, but they’re wrong. They always are.